


Downfall

by orphan_account



Category: League of Legends
Genre: No Archive Warnings Apply Yet~
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 08:18:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15882186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: My take on Vi's, and more specifically Demon Vi's, background and lore as well as the start to what I hope is a cool AU.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just the basics of a few characters in a world that I'm looking to build. This one is specifically Vi, but I plan on coming back and filling in other characters in a similar way later! There isn't any dialogue in this chapter, it's really just a launching point for my story, like the text crawl in Star Wars, but a little long winded! Reading time is about ten minutes.

Before Vi, there was a Violet Petrov, a happy, but rough and tumble survivor from the filthy streets of Zaun. While her parents didn't have much, they had enough to afford a small, one room apartment in the crowded underbelly of the city, and while it was hardly better than sleeping under a piece of sheet metal, the walls held everything together for the small family of three. Violet was a bright girl, and while there was no school for children in most places in Zaun, her mother had managed to get her hands on the family's most valued possession, a beginner's book for the Zaunite and Piltoverian languages. Together with her parents for ten years, Violet laughed and learned while she was largely sheltered from the terrors and exploitation that came with living on the streets of Zaun, or as she would come to call it, Hell. Like most in the cramped, dark city, Violet's parents worked long and strenuous hours in the chem-factories, barely eking out enough of a living between the two of them to support the life of their family. Despite the love they had for each other and their hope to somehow move up to the glittering city of Piltover above them, the stress of their lives began to show. As she grew older, Violet saw her parents less and less, they were forced to work longer, work harder only to get payed less than they had before if they wanted to keep their jobs. Soon enough the factory that they worked in reaped the seeds its overwork sowed and due to the exhaustion of the workers on the floor, an improperly contained catalyst started a massive fire. Cold and merciless like many people who lived in the city, the reaction to the fire was one of "better them than me", and as some ignored the blaze, others actively tried to prevent it from spreading rather than attempt to put it out. Despite the panic outside her family's small room, Violet didn't leave, but after three days of not seeing her mother or father, and with no food or means to pay for the dingy home, Violet was forced out, carrying only the hope her parent's put into her name with her as she dived into the cruel underworld of Zaun.

Quickly recruited into one of many gangs of orphans as a means of survial, Vi tried her best to fit into the background. Her age and comparatively high knowledge gained her some hatred from the others in her gang and she was slowly pushed to the periphery of the group. For three years she lived in worse conditions that she ever could have imagined, hated by those around her, hated by those she stole from, seemingly hated by whatever god condemned her to her treacherous fate. Thirteen years old and unable to take the constant barrage of insults and beatings on top of the soggy and drug ridden alleys she slept in, Violet set out in the search of anything better.

Winding and confusing as Zaun's labyrinthine streets were, Violet slowly became accustomed to the nuance in their architecture and composition, taking time and consideration into how best to move from her various hiding spots and cashes. Naturally, life was much harder without the assistance and slight security of her previous gang, but in some ways, Violet couldn't help but enjoy her new life. Living alone was much easier for her mentally, she only had to steal for herself, and she could relive her nostalgic years with her family any time she wanted just by opening her book. No longer having to worry about it becoming tinder for a shortly lived fire, Violet spent much more time lost in the strange wonders contained in her learner book's pages. Like learning the streets, learning the languages took time and patience, but unlike her parents, time was something that Violet still had.

It took an entire year before she was approached by another orphan that wanted to join Violet in her struggle to survive, a smaller girl with shocking neon blue hair and a wild smile. She didn't have a name, and after deciding for herself that Violet was to be the one to lead their new gang, asked for a name. While she wasn't exactly glad to accept the responsibility of another person again, Violet saw something of herself in the smaller girl. While that may have been the case initially, Violet quickly noticed the differences in their personalities after the first gambit that the two tried to pull. It really wasn't going to be anything special or difficult, just a classic scam where one of the girls would distract a peddler while the other robbed him blind. Vi, as she had started to be called by the still unnamed girl, decided to take the harder role of keeping the salesman distracted while the blue-haired girl would only have to swipe the food into her bag. As things kicked into gear, everything seemed to be going according to plan, Vi got the salesman caught up in some dispute over pricing and quality that frankly attracted almost as much outside attention as it did direct interest from the seller. Under the wonderfully executed cover of Vi, the blue-haired girl also set to work, shoveling the basic goods of the booth into a bag, while not taking too much to avoid attention. It was shaping up like the job would go off without a hitch, only the girl saw something that intrigued her. She'd seen all manner of weapons and bombs and the like moving through the streets of Zaun in her life, but never had she held one. A cloth satchel of sorts with a short, thick fuse was propped up against one side of the inner cabinet while several flares were lined up on the other side. Letting curiosity get the better of her, the girl, imitating the striking method she'd seen plenty of times by other delinquents that wanted to scare of rodents or harass bystanders, she lit up the flare. It felt good in her hands, the bright flame was spitting and protesting against the life it was born into, but making its fight incredibly beautiful! It seemed natural to the girl that she should let it accomplish its task, and she pressed the flare to the fuse before even thinking about how close she was to the makeshift explosive. Of course, her little experience didn't go unnoticed and almost as soon as she lit up the bomb, she was slammed in the ribs with a kick that made two things very permanently ingrained in her. First, the make that Violet yelled at her when she was dragging her out of the rubble, and second that her newfound passion was not something that others wanted her to enjoy. Jinx. It's what she was to Violet, it's what she was to the world. It's why she hated herself. 

Another four years passed and things in Vi's gang had started to really kick into gear, hell, they'd even finally gotten around to naming it. Being the most prolific of the bunch, Violet was the one to really give options, but after some deliberation and a small vote between her closer members, the group finally settled on the "Flames". She'd seen plenty of kids come and go for their various reasons, but she always made sure to give them a fair chance at getting in, but now that they were running less small time jobs and more skill intensive jobs she finally had to start picking people out for their specialties.

Two more years and Violet had somehow made it to twenty. She never dreamed of making it to now, but then again, she never exactly thought she was going to die... most days at least. Anywhere else, Violet may have become someone that was truly to be feared, but just based on the misfortune of her birth, she was still a practical nobody, a faceless leader among urchins cluttering the city streets of Zaun. It was really a shame and frankly, she now clearly understood what her parents had tried so long ago to save her from. She was still in control over the Flames, but recently there had been some serious tension between her and Jinx about how the group should go forward. Over the years, Violet had changed in many ways, she grew resourceful, charming, and strong, all characteristics that resembled her previous self, only now they were distorted by the lens of crime and honed for that express purpose. It was clear that Vi wasn't exactly the type that should be in charge of what had grown to nearly thirty teens and young adults, she just didn't have the skills, but Jinx was no better. Her passion had slowly but surely eaten away at her mind until it became an obsession. While she had the the charisma to lead and had stolen the hearts of several members of the Flames, Violet knew full and well that if the gang were to fall into Jinx's hands that things just wouldn't end well. Fortunately for her, one of the newer additions to their gang, Ekko, saw things the same way she did. What's more he was head over heels for Jinx, not that she noticed. Ekko was, like the others, just another orphan that was clever enough to survive in the Hell they lived in. He was smart, easily the brains behind the operation from his first days with the Flames. He was indispensable to Vi's maintenance of power, making sure that Jinx was always off doing something so Vi had the time she needed to establish her power base within her gang. Everything seemed to be calm enough to function, but like everything else that happened in Vi's life, it just wasn't that easy.

Having not given her brat of a pseudo-sister, Jinx's, resourcefulness enough credit, Violet didn't notice when things started to change. Slowly but surely, Vi was ending up being the muscle, roughing up people that owed the Flames anything, causing trouble for people that weren't willing to cooperate with the gang, really all work that was below her. Of course, she assumed that it was just her doing her part for the gang, throwing her hat into the ring, so to speak. Naturally, this led to two things, the first was the slow shift in power from Vi to Jinx as the latter manipulated Ekko's feelings into getting him on her side, and the second was the nearly fatal incident that knocked Violet out of the scene altogether. Wanting to take the gang to the next level, Vi was dispatched alone to Piltover, the place her family had worked so hard to help her live, to steal. Their client was very vague on the details, or so Vi had heard, after all, Ekko was the one that met with the client and got the info. Either way, it was supposed to be another boiler plate sort of theft, break in, steal something, get out, lose the cops. Unfortunately, that wasn't what happened, Violet had no trouble breaking in, her shift to "the muscle" helped her get past whatever she couldn't with her mind, and before she knew it, she was inside of what for Zaunite standards was a palace. In reality, it was just a regular old house on the edges of Piltover, and on top of that, there weren't any guards, just a table full of pissed suits that were more than happy to show Vi just how much they liked Zaun. 

From the outside, looking in, it was clearly a set up, a classic example of not keeping good enough track of the people around you and trusting too many people blindly. Despite getting betrayed by her gang, those who she considered her family, not everything was taken from her when the metal cane came crashing down on her skull, stealing years of memories from her life and knocking her unconscious. As soon as she blacked out she noticed something in the background of the darkness. There was a presence within her, something dark and vile. It was calling her and it was warm and enticing, there was something almost seductive about the draw that the presence had. Violet lost more and more of herself as she moved closer to understanding what the force inside her was, first went her last name, then her first, until she arrived at the first wall in her mind. To her it was a very physical wall, it was the first time in the darkness that she had realized that she had some perception of herself. She was standing in front of a sturdy concrete wall, the likes of which she only ever saw on the lead factories in Zaun. She was familiar with them, thick and strong, cold in the winters and hot in the summers, unbearable in both. The other Vi hated them. Nameless, Violet wondered why in the world she knew that, why there was even another Violet in her mind. The other Vi hated that too. Vi hated the wall, Vi hated Zaun, Vi hated Piltover, Vi hated humans, and Vi hated the bitch that decided she needed to be sealed away. Violet knew something wasn't right from the first time one of the other Vi made herself known. Pressing up to the wall, Violet could almost feel the hatred radiating from the dense concrete. She raised her fist. She was shocked at how heavy her arms felt, but more than that, she was shocked at what she saw when she raised her fist in front of her face. It was like she didn't have arms or anything, her body was made of strange purple and pink flames that somehow held up one massive gauntlet. The gauntlet was magnificent, strange crimson color that was clearly inhuman. It was sharp, but natural, it felt like an extension of herself, but something inside of her screamed out, she knew that this belonged to the other Vi.

As her mind tried to claw itself closer to whatever it was that she'd suppressed so aggressively, she unwillingly dug herself deeper and deeper into a coma. One key difference between Piltover and Zaun was what happened to you if you were found, lying bleeding in a gutter. In Zaun, you'd get robbed and left to die, drowning in whatever noxious liquid floated through the streets that day. In Piltover, you'd get taken to a hospital as soon as someone found you. So there she was, Lying, trapped in her own mind, on a hospital bed in the strange upper city of Piltover with none of her memories. Of course, it wasn't like she realized she had no memories yet. In her mind Violet had finally raised her fist to punch out, finally deciding to take out her frustration on the wall, but she woke up as soon as her fist connected. She knew nothing and none of what the doctor said to her made any sense at all. She was in a daze, confused, unsure of anything, but most importantly scared. She was asked if she knew her name, but when she opened her mouth to reply nothing came out. She seemed just as shocked as the people around her looked full of despair, she couldn't remember anything about herself. She knew how to read and speak, but she didn't know anything. Out of frustration she closed her eyes and once again saw the wall before her. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes once more, only this time they had changed color from their typical lilac to a strong golden yellow. The amnesiac cleared her throat, and, more confidently than before, finally spoke some sense, "Vi. My name is Vi."


	2. Rise and Shine

Vi sat upright on her uncomfortable bed in the hospital, rubbing her head as she was finally given a chance to breathe. Frankly, she wasn't entirely sure what all she could believe about what these people told her, but she figured that at the very least she could learn something from them. So far she had only managed to get a little bit of information from the various nurses and doctors that had made their way by to see about the girl that had finally woken up. It seemed like saying her name had gotten the goons off her back enough for her to start trying to relax, but she was still grappling with her situation. The only bit of information she had about herself was that weird name she said, Vi. Was that actually her name? She wasn't entirely sure, all she really knew was that name kept getting repeated over and over in her head until she finally said it. There was something comforting to it and it didn't seem like it made the workers want to kill her or anything, so Vi decided that she may as well just roll with it for the time being. More importantly than that, who was she? A first name alone really wasn't a ton of help, especially getting found alone like she was. Vi had nowhere to go and knew literally no one she'd seen so far, hell, she didn't even know how old she was.

Starting to get frustrated with herself for not being able to remember anything, the former gang leader let out a defeated sigh as she flopped back against the cool spring mattress and the sterilized pillow. Vi took a second to drink in her surroundings, hoping that if nothing else she could at least get a grip on what was going on around her. She could feel and move everything still, right and left legs? No problem. Right and left arms? Well, pretty damn close. It wasn't until Vi raised her hands to her face and took a good look at them that she started to get an idea for what kind of person she was. Her right and left hand were both in pretty bad shape, they were both still usable, but she could straighten out neither her left hand's ring finger nor pinky. As expected, that wasn't exactly thrilling news and her change in mood showed without her thinking about it. On top of that, her hands were pretty beat up, or well worn or something, her palms were calloused and her knuckles were slightly dry. There were several scars that accented various parts of her hands and gave her plenty of curious thoughts about what her previous life must have been. Vi found quickly that she was almost calmed by closing her hands into fists, like some sort of methodical muscle memory that urged her to tuck in her guard and go down swinging. That brought a smile to her face, if anyone could ever idealize themselves, Vi figured it was as good a time as any, and she raised her hands some, closing her eyes to open her imagination. 

Before her once again was the wall from her dream, but this time there was a dent in it with cracks creeping out from the center. The formerly solid concrete of the wall, no longer uniform, really made Vi feel more comfortable than anything, if she'd learned anything since she'd woken up it was that she didn't really like the idea of a straight-laced anything, be it a hospital, hand, or wall. Vi knew everything had cracks, whether you could see them or not, and she figured there was no reason to hide them. She took a slight step forward to widen her stance, and once she felt sturdy, Vi dropped her weight slightly, bending her legs and raising her arms. She kept her elbows close to her chest, her right fist taking residence right next to her jaw while her left posted up defensively near her brow. She took in a regular breath, nothing too deep, and exhaled with the punch. She could feel her core tighten as her arm straightened out. She held her arm there, holding the sound in her mind before letting it flutter away. Realizing she'd been accidentally shadowboxing in her bed, Vi let her arms fall back to her sides, resting slightly uncomfortably on the coarse sheets that still felt like they were bolted to the bed. Vi had taken to shifting around to get comfortable when she heard the familiar clatter of shoes that so often meant the approach of some member or members of the hospital staff, and there was something about the sound that seemed to aggravate her. Sure, she wasn't in great shape, but really, she didn't need to be doted over, it was embarrassing. Still, understanding that they were really chancing it by keeping her in here for free, so Vi put on her very best "No really, I promise that there is nothing wrong" face and rolled her head to one side slightly, curious as to what the next goon would look like.

Much to her surprise it was something much more interesting than another doctor coming to ask more questions without answers. Rather, the person that walked through the door made her even more nervous than any of her thoughts or lack of knowledge, it was a fucking cop. Er, well, that's what her gut was telling her at least, and her gut was one thing Vi felt like she could trust, so suddenly her compliant face turned to a scowl. Vi felt her fists close as she tried to size up the newcomer. It was a little hard to get a real read on them thanks to the thick, black trench coat she was wearing. The woman unbuttoned her coat so she could sit, revealing both a vest and a collared shirt with a subdued brown tie that really made Vi question the woman's taste in color coordination. Either way as the woman's coat shifted with her step, Vi couldn't help but notice the only slightly concealed sidearm that was strapped to the other woman's waist. Vi traced her gaze back up to try and lock eyes with the woman, but stopped on the well polished star that was pinned to the right side of the woman's Vest. Without asking the strange lady grabbed a nearby chair and along with the scream of rusty metal on tile floor took a casual seat next to Vi's bed. She didn't extend so much as a handshake for a greeting, opting to produce a flip notebook and pen from inside her coat, clicking it a few times before she seemed satisfied. She cleared her throat and spoke as if this were a common occurrence, "Vi right? My name is Caitlyn, pleasure, but you can just call me sheriff. I'm here to ask you a few questions, is that okay with you?"

Adding to the growing pile of mixed emotions that Vi was experiencing right this second, soothing may as well enter the fray. There was something cool and suave about the sheriff's voice. She sounded commanding and businesslike, but her accent was totally unlike the doctors and nurses, and as far as Vi could tell, any person she'd ever met in her entire life. Speaking without thinking, Vi quickly responded, "Oh Vi? Yeah, that's me alright, how can I help you ma'am? I mean..." Vi let her voice drift off slightly so she cleared her throat and forced herself back upright, "sheriff." Vi could feel a gentle blush growing on her cheeks purely from the embarrassment of her messy reply, and as things stood, she didn't exactly think adding more confusion to the formula would help her position in any way.  


"Right, well getting right into it, just stop me if something isn't right." The sheriff said, very measured and patient, despite the way her face seemed to contort with frustration as she finished. "Your name is Vi, no last name; you were found face down in a gutter on the western outskirts of Piltover-"

Vi jumped in, doing as Caitlyn had asked her, "Yeah uh, that's all news to me. They did tell you I have amnesia, right?"

Caitlyn looked at Vi from above her notebook, "Wel, they told me that you probably knew nothing, but this is still worse than I thought. As I was saying, you were found on the western outskirts of Piltover, and you suffered from blunt force trauma to the head," she lowered her voice " suspected weapon has been secured but it is perfectly normal, not even any prints." The sheriff pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath before letting it out slowly as she thought. Caitlyn idly crossed one leg over the other and leaned back against the hard metal chair. "Are you positive you can't think of anything? I can't stress enough that any little bit will give us at the very least a place to start."

"Really," Vi responded, "If I knew anything I would have already told you, I just don't remember anything up until I woke up. I don't even know where Piltover is or why I was here." She raised her left hand to her face in exhaustion.

Almost as if on cue, Caitlyn snapped back into her professional personality, straightening up in her chair and quickly scribbling down some notes, "Uh huh, okay, noted. So what do you know about a Zaunite group called Flames?" The sheriff raised an eyebrow as she continued to obscure most of her face with the notebook. She didn't explain herself any further, more curious if the name meant anything to Vi without giving her a reason to avoid an explanation.

"Flames? Is Zaun a group of people or something? I don't know anything about it or them or whatever, I don't have any memories, sheriff!" Starting to let her exhaustion get the better of her, Vi was much more short with the sheriff than she had been with the last few people who asked her the same old questions. However, in her frustration, she got a bit carried away and leaned into her words, animating to articulate her speech. Finally, Vi just gave up, it wasn't like Caitlyn had even been there for more than a few minutes, but it was all just so much to take in and no one around her was making it any easier. Shaking her head, Vi let her gaze fall back down to her lap, noticing a tattoo on the underside of her left wrist, a crude 'F' that was bathed in flames.

Despite Vi's protest and obvious displeasure, Caitlyn wasn't in the mood to cut anyone slack. She said nothing else to Vi and stood up, with a curt nod, she closed the notebook, tucking it back into her jacket.The sheriff took one more look at Vi, holding a cold piercing gaze for a few seconds in silence before turning around and walking out of the hospital room. In her place two officers kitted out like they were expecting a fight filed into the room less than a minute after Cailtyn left. The officer holding a pair of open steel shackles stepped forward as the other one spoke, "Patient Vi, you match a description and have identified as a suspect on multiple charges of armed robbery, robbery, arson, assault, and battery. Stand up and come with us. 

Vi couldn't believe what was happening to her, and with no memory of anything that she was now being charged. Still reeling from just the few questions that Caitlyn had asked her, she was understandably reeling when she felt the rough metal of the cuffs locking around her wrists. Ever since she had woken up it had felt like her world was spinning, leaving her in a whirlpool that she couldn't escape from. She breathed in and she was standing, she breathed out and she was sitting in the back of a patrol car that was obviously meant for much smaller people, she breathed in and she was standing in front of a window where a grey jumpsuit and told to change, she breathed out and she was laying in a holding cell, staring up at the roof of the blank, empty room. She'd be questioned again tomorrow but something inside of her told her that there wouldn't be any more questioning. Something wasn't right about all of this. There was no mugshot taken, no processing, no rights, no declarations, no phone call, nothing. All the while she kept staring down at her wrist, the singular fact that had condemned her to this bullshit fate, wondering if she really was the one responsible for everything the cops had told her she did. Vi closed her fists, her eyes, and then before her once again, the concrete wall. 

Vi could have sworn she heard something coming from the other side, and as such, she moved close, pressing her palms to the ash grey surface. She ran her hands over the impact in the middle where the cracks had begun to spread from, it seemed like they'd grown since she last saw them, almost like she could look through the middle. "Look." The sound came from the wall, resonating through her bones, until Vi believed she was the one that had said it. She bent forward slightly, using one hand to keep her pink hair out of her face. She closed her left eye and turned her head just enough so she could try to see through the largest of the cracks. It was strange, Vi could have sworn that she was looking through the wall, but there was only black on the other side.


End file.
